


Enchanted

by themagicalocelot



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dreams, Dreamsharing, Fluff, M/M, pure magical wonderstuck in love stephen strange, what kind of magic makes you fall in love like this - stephen strange 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 19:37:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14700831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themagicalocelot/pseuds/themagicalocelot
Summary: Stephen keeps seeing a gorgeous man in his dreams. They fall in love underneath shooting stars, in vast cornfields, in his old family farmhouse in Nebraska. Spells like this should be keeping him awake at night, but he wants nothing more than to lose himself in this enchanting reality.





	Enchanted

**Author's Note:**

> this is my third fic based on a taylor swift song I swear with every listen her music and her lyrics get more and more powerful. anyway. listen to 'enchanted' it's such an ironstrange mood!

Stephen wakes up at night, skin cold, floating out of his body and his bed. He sees the stars in his room—they’re not meant to be there, but they get blown in through the open window and it looks like snow. He floats towards the curtains, dancing in the deep night, and grips onto the fabric with both hands as the next gust of stars gets blown inside. He sees a comet shooting over his shoulder, and another one, and another one, and finally he manages to launch himself forwards into the open air outside.

He’s not in the city anymore; there are only wide fields of corn outside, blowing softly in the breeze. He looks back and sees a farmhouse—the one he grew up in. He hasn’t seen it in years. He had locked away all the photos of his family in a box and thrown away the key, and yet there it was in front of him. Slowly, he lowers himself down into the fields, long blades of grass stroking against his knees, elbows and all around him. He takes a step towards his house, but feels the gentle touch of someone’s hand around his wrist.

No one’s usually around at this time of the night. Not in real life, never in his bed, especially not in a place like this. It’s a man, sharp dark hair, scratches on his face, and eyes that he feels like he’s seen before.

“I believe in you, Stephen,” the man says, the palm of his hand warm on his. “Always.”

Everything vanishes, and Stephen wakes up in cold sweat, with nothing to show for. No stars above his head, no family home waiting for him, no cool Nebraska nights, and no mysterious man calling out to him with the voice of an angel without wings.

-

They come back—the dreams, visions?—over the next few months, at first weeks apart, and then days, and now it’s there every night. It’s the reason Stephen puts himself in a trance induced state at the same time every day; like clockwork, the only thing he wants is to see  _him_.

It’s like coming back to someone you never knew, but you’re certain that you’d find them one day, and it would be like you’d always known. He sees his family, too, in his dreams, singing by the porch, pouring glasses of amaretto, laughing together. He sits with them sometimes, talks to them, and tells them about everything’s that happened since they’ve last seen each other.  _I don’t want to keep my magic to myself anymore_ , he’d tell them.

“Tell me more,” the man would turn up in all of these dreams. Sometimes he’d walk through the cornfields, breezing through like a comet landing on Earth. Sometimes he’d fall through the stars like an angel, wings shedding into the grass as Stephen caught him in his arms.

“Can I kiss you?” Stephen asks one night, holding him in his arms. He looks into his beautiful, deep brown eyes. He’s never seen anything like it in real life.

He smiles at him, “Why else would I be here?”

-

“Who are you?” Stephen finally asks one night, as they’re all sitting in the living room of the farmhouse, the two of them on the rocking chair, Stephen happily perched on top of his lap.

“You’re going to save my life one day.”

“I’ve saved a lot of lives over the years,” Stephen replies. “It’s all I’ve wanted to do since I was younger.”

He strokes Stephen’s hair, thumbing the back of his neck. He barely even feels like a ghost now, this could all be real. Magic has never felt this… real, at least not without a spell. Are these just dreams? Or are they something else? He realizes that they seem to keep returning to the same night, the same moment, under the same stars. It’s like a time loop that keeps evolving. Nothing makes sense.

“You think too much,” the man says, kissing him just below the jawline. Stephen sighs into the kiss, familiar now after all these nights together. “I just wanted to say tell you I love you before I go, because some days I forget, and then it’s too late.”

Stephen’s face drops. “You’re going?”

“Only for a while.”

“Don’t go,” Stephen pleads, tears welling up. Gradually, the room starts turning into orange dust. He tries using his magic to stop it, to save his house, his love, even though he doesn’t know who he is yet.

“You never told me your name,” he says, as the man continues playing with the collar of his shirt. His fingers are slowly dusting into the air now, but Stephen can still feel his touch on his skin. Stephen pulls his face in for a kiss, and he feels his mouth hot on his, sparks going off everywhere in his body.

He opens his eyes to find that the farmhouse is now completely gone, and he’s left sitting on the man’s lap on the grass in the endless fields of corn. He dives down to press himself against him, wanting to feel his chest against his, fingers interlocking above his head.

“Should’ve done this the first couple of nights in,” the man barks out a playful laugh. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your chance.”

His grip slowly loosens on Stephen’s hands, as flakes of him get blown away into the wind. His eyes are the last to go, and they stay locked on Stephen as he hears his voice in his head:  _Anthony. That’s my name, just so you know._

Stephen jolts out of bed with a warmth surging through his entire body, steading his breathing before he gets up and opens the windows outside. There is no farm, just the muted sounds of the city of New York beating its restless heart. The city lights look like starlight, though, and the occasional cars streaking through look like comets down below. He’s never wanted to be back in a dream more than ever, but something’s telling him that he can’t go back to that one, even after all these months of living in it.

He’s never been under someone’s spell before, and certainly not like this—nothing so, utterly  _pure_. He then sees a bright light shooting through the sky above. Still half asleep and in a love-daze, Stephen doesn’t think to put up his shields until he finds the object coming closer towards him. His cape flies to him and levitates him off the balcony, up in the air.

“Iron Man?” Stephen asks, faced with the red form of metal in front of him, jets firing to keep him steady in the air. Perhaps he’d just been awoken in the middle of the night, too.

“So, I’ve had trouble sleeping these past few months,” the mask comes off, and Stephen recognizes that face immediately.  _It’s him._  “And by trouble, I mean, I prayed every night that the man in my dreams was a) real, and b) totally single. Because I think I’ve fallen in love with him.”

Stephen smiles and pulls him into a kiss, using his magic to disarm the armor completely. He looks panicked at that at first, looking down at the very empty bit of space between them and the New York ground.

“I’ve got you,” Stephen reassures him, as he holds him close. He leans into his ear and whispers: “I’ve fallen in love with the man in my dreams, too.”

A blush runs through Anthony’s cheeks, and warm on Stephen’s face, lips pressing on his face everywhere—he just wants to kiss him softly, endlessly, and with every last drop of spellbinding devotion he had. He’d seen a lot of different realities, but nothing quite as enchanting as the one right in front of him. 


End file.
